Inception of A Wildfire
by DamiraOrtrun
Summary: 8th Year AU. He remembered passing Knockturn alley and hearing a child sobbing. He could only say now that she'd been one of the many illusions to the naked eye. He could only say she'd been there to lure him into the darkness like the others. He could only lie and say that he'd wished that it hadn't worked. Updates every Friday.
1. Chapter One

He shivered slightly as the wind slapped angrily against his tan face, almost tripping in his hurry to catch up with Hermione and Ron. He truly disliked the fact that they could easily forget him at times, especially when they were too busy flirting with each other to notice him.

Most times, he just wished he would hurry up and find himself a girlfriend to occupy his free time, just so he wouldn't have to watch them swap saliva. He never knew how revolting and just plain wrong it could be to watch two of his best friends snog in his face until now.

He thought by offering to join them on their trip to Diagon alley for school supplies, they would have time to bond. It seemed they mistook his idea for a chance to ditch him and spend even more time together. Harry already did his school shopping a few days ago, alone might he add, because everyone had been too busy and his best friends had a date scheduled that day.

Molly was always knitting for some unknown and unexplainable reason, and Ginny spent her summer with her Hogwarts friends. Arthur was just busy with the Ministry, working on getting a raise that would boost their income. Fred and George were occupied with their store, their product's sales having blasted through the roof after the war.

Unlike the others, Harry had nothing to distract him from the cold hard dread that the war had left him with. He'd been trying so hard to reconnect with his friends - to rebuild the friendship torn apart by the war. But at the moment, he had no one.

That left Ron and Hermione, but they were being busybodies in their own romance dazed world. They'd found an escape in their new relationship, spending every second in the others presence. Other than Luna, who told him that he could join her on her quest to expose the 'Qornakle Quakers' existence, all of his Hogwarts friends were all too busy.

Harry slowed down in his run to catch up with them, agitatedly watching their shapes disappear into the thick crowds. He let out a puff of angry air and turned, ready to head back to the Weasley household.

His foot crunched down on the main road, stomping away in a fit of fury to heaven knows where. Harry just walked - borderline running - around Diagon for a few minutes. Finally, after aimless wandering, he managed to calm himself down enough to glance at his destination.

He practically panicked for a full five seconds, wondering whether he should run away in fright or walk away calmly. Either way, the Daily Prophet would have a fit if one of their photographers were to find him in a place like this. Harry has learned by experience a long time ago, that photographers were everywhere.

Even at Knockturn alley.

He quickly turned, ready to high-tail it out of there and deal with a lecture from Hermione tomorrow, only hesitating when he heard the sound of crying coming from out of the path. It may have been the result of a person being on the wrong end of dark wizard's wand.

Or the cries of an adolescent being on the wrong end of a dark wizard's wand.

It was another round of those heart wrenching cries that spurned him to run towards the noise, completely leaving all sense behind. He'd only slipped around two buildings when he caught the sight of a dark shape sitting on the ground against the left building. It's shoulders were shaking in what Harry assumed were sobs, judging by the sounds that continued to attack his ears in the wretched way it always did. He really hated the sound of a child crying.

"Hey," Harry called out, quickly wincing afterward as he realised how intimidating he could sound to a child. The figure briskly stood up with a whimper of fear and stumbled away, leaving Harry to watch its shadow disappear with his jaw dropped in shock. Had he really frightened the kid that badly? "Come back!"

Christ, now he sounded like a child predator. The next thing to come out of his mouth will be 'I've got some pasties' or 'I just wanna talk'.

Hurrying after the shadow in frustration, he looked for the small traces of the kid in the dark alley. He stared intently at the gap between two shady buildings, swiftly walking down the space as quickly as possible.

His eyes squinted into a thin slit, rapidly adjusting to the bright green light due to his circular glasses. Unconsciously, he blinked once and lifted his frames with his index finger to read the glowing neon sign.

 **The Found**

At the bottom in a squiggly pink neon font, it stated ' _Lost Antique Shop_ ' and the sign altogether could damage a person's eyes permanently. Even with it's tacky sign and weird name, Harry was intrigued; what was a tiny shop doing behind buildings like these?

When Harry said tacky, he meant what he said. There was a peeling gold frame surrounding the bright sign, and in the window sat ripped stuffed animals and broken clocks on sea blue cushions. It was an odd sight that made Harry almost burst with curiosity.

Harry dashed to the glass door, with such an unusual eagerness he could easily be mistaken for Hermione, and twisted the rusted handle. He truly did not know if the peculiar store was open or not, so he was astounded that the door had opened that easily. Harry snapped out of his daze when he heard a feminine and motherly tone call out to him.

"Deary, why don't you come inside? I've heard the winds are just quite ghastly today, are they not?" An old women in a jewel studded shawl stated warmly. She stood behind a cluttered mess on top of a maroon carpeted counter. Around the small and equally cluttered shop were other broken things, such as a cracked spine that belonged to dusty latin book and an empty shredded golden box. The shop was as unusual as the outside.

He blinked at her kindness and shut the door noiselessly, wondering whether he should be dubious or thankful. In truth, he'd been freezing his bum off having forgotten his warming charm, though he'd been reminded by several warm-hearted females today.

"H-hello," Harry greeted with a stutter that he wished had come from the cold. She smiled warmly at him, showing one gold tooth and almost melting his nearly frozen heart in the process. "I'm Harry."

He didn't know if he was supposed to give out his name to random strangers, but she seemed kind. It wouldn't have mattered in the end anyway, all of the wizarding world knew his name.

"I know who you are, dear. My name is Elani and I just so happen to be the owner of this shop. May I ask how you're faring this frosty evening, Harry?" Elani questioned him, waving her wand to levitate a silver platter of steaming strawberry strudels into the room. "Would you like one?"

He nodded reaching out a shivering hand to slip one of the steaming strudels into his hand, shivering at the instant warmth it brought his hand. He brought one to his mouth, preparing to shove it down his throat as unmannered as possible, then hesitated. "Are they safe?"

He knew it was an extremely rude question to ask a person, but he had to be sure. It wouldn't do to die by a poisoned strudel in an antique shop.

"I find it highly insulting that you would expect something so barbaric of me, Harry. I can assure you that they are safe to ingest, and I will dissolve your worries by consuming one with you," Elani spoke, grabbing one of the still steaming strudels and dramatically biting into it. Harry chuckled slightly before chewing on his as well. As he had suspected, it tasted like heaven. "Can I ask you something, Harry?"

"Yes?" he replied with a slight smack in his tone, as he was still gnawing on the delicious pastry. He looked up from the strawberry strudel, only to find her staring at him with half-lidded eyes. Her gaze seemed faraway as if she were staring at him, but looking away into another world. It chilled him to the bone.

"If one could speak to the dead, what do you think they would say?" she queried oddly, nibbling at her pastry in a way that reminded him of a rat. Her beady eyes staring at him with so much intensity, he was tempted to look away.

"Well if I could speak to the dead, I'd get to know my mother and father better, maybe even ask if they're alright," Harry answered, becoming more than a little sceptic. The sweet little women he'd known a few minutes ago was turning into a mere fantasy. He saw her look down and whisper something that closely resembled 'He'll do'. "Elani, can I ask you something too?"

"Your always welcome to ask me whatever itches that grown up mind of yours, dear," Elani replied, setting down her barely touched strudel onto the silver platter to lean over her carpeted counter. This action knocked over a plant vase filled to the tip with muggle dice and spilled multi-colored squares onto the brown wooden floor. He didn't bother looking down, seeing as she wasn't fazed by it's noise.

"Did you happen to see a kid zoom by your window?" Harry interrogated, dusting his hands to rid them of their crumbs.

"I briefly saw a shadow, if that's what you mean?" she replied, shifting against her counter, causing a green goblet full of black goo to fall onto the ground as well. He twitched ever so slightly, still not looking at the floor as he nodded. "Can I interest you in something rare, Harry? I feel only you can correctly wield this item."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't bring any money-" he told her hurriedly, as his foot scuffed against the wooden floor in an attempt to take a step back. The look she shot his way made him stop his efforts and any future ones.

"No, no, no, this one is on the house, I assure you, Harry," she reassured him, using one hand to reach down and grab something from under the counter, keeping an eagle eye on him as she did so. She stood up, holding a black rectangular box in her hand. It wasn't a long box, about six inches or so in size. "Don't open it until needed, and when that moment comes, you will know."

The box had little squiggles written around the edges in scarlett. They were so small, that his eyes almost closed trying to see them. The box in all was brilliantly created, the black having a velvety soft texture to it and the squiggles being professionally sewn in. It was fantastic for a box.

"How do I know it's safe," he replied with a slight twitch in his lips.

Elani grinned at him, a twinkle in her hazel eyes. "I put it on my life, Mr. Potter, that my product is indeed safe."


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: Hullo, to those who somehow found this under the better written drarry stories, and thanks for reading my story. It's a short chapter.**

 **..· Chapter Two ·..**

"How could you run off like that, Harry?" Hermione accused as they hurried into the Weasley household, Harry sighing in relief as the heat splashed against him. He ignored her, seeing as he had to search for the two and wait patiently for them to finish their shopping, and rubbed his arms as he went to sit in front of the fireplace. "Answer me, Harry!"

"You have no right to demand answers from me when you two have been overlooking me this entire summer. The answer to your question is obviously standing beside you," Harry finally snapped, reaching inside his coat pocket to caress the black pox.

"Overlooking you? Don't be so dramatic, mate," Ron rolled his eyes, shedding his coat to sit on the couch above him. "Just because we spend more time together doesn't mean we're overlooking you. We're just doing what normal couples do."

Harry hummed in reply, wishing he had a cup of hot cocoa. He was saddened that Dobby was not there to jitter in excitement at the thought of bringing him cocoa. Then he could have ordered the house-elf to 'accidentally' spill a glass of water on his friends. It might just clear their foggy minds.

Hermione blushed beet red out of the corner of his eye, shifting in her seat next to Ron. She clenched the bottom of her red muggle shirt with white knuckles, as she bashfully questioned. "So we're officially a couple now?"

"'Course, 'Mione," Ron confirmed with a broad grin, leaning over to peck her on the lips, and provoking a grimace out Harry. This earned a death glare from Ron that Harry truly did not deserve.

Harry rolled his eyes and summoned a mug of hot cocoa, before taking a long sip of it's contents. It did nothing to block out the sounds of his best friends snogging behind him, but it helped.

Hermione ripped away from to kiss as it begin to get heated, and switched her to gaze to him, clueless to his discomfort. She licked her lips while asking, "So where'd you go?"

"No where," Harry sipped, gently rubbing his hands together as Hermione's knees jostled his shoulders. She scooted down to sit next to him, keeping a concerned eye on him.

"Are you alright?" she queried, her voice boiling with worry.

"I'm fine, Hermione." Harry assured her, taking another long and well-deserved sip of his cocoa. He gripped his mug tightly as he stood up, startling Hermione. "I don't want to protrude on something I'm evidently not included in, so I'll be going now."

He exited the sitting room, deciding that the moon looked good enough to stare at on this cold night. Harry cast a heating charm on himself as he trekked outside, swiftly becoming immune to the chilly night air. He sat on the wet slippery grass, steadily fixing his stare at the illuminating moon.

This cycle went on for five more days, Hermione and Ron always failing to notice him and him leaving the house to enjoy the wilderness. On the sixth day, they were yelling their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as they speedily boarded the train.

Ginny smiled at him as they bumped into each other, throwing a curious look at Hermione and Ron. They were once again taking no notice in him.

"What's up with them?" Ginny asked, as Harry intently searched for an empty compartment. "They look as if they'd been hit with a Confundus Charm."

"They've just apparently gotten into something called a relationship," Harry sighed, slipping into an open compartment. He sat down, looking confusingly at Ginny who was standing at the door, shifting uncomfortably. Did she not want to sit with him?

She hurriedly explained. "I promised Neville that I'd sit with him."

Harry nodded before he blurted out uncontrollably, "Are you two together?" He pushing his glasses up to his nose hastily, his Adam's apple bobbing repeatedly. He knew Neville fancied Ginny, if him asking her to the Yule ball in fourth year didn't say it. He truly didn't know that Ginny liked him back though.

"Yeah, this summer actually," she told him nonchalantly, suddenly sternly staring him down. "Do you have a problem with Neville being my boyfriend?"

"No!" Harry quickly reassured, his glasses nearly flailing off of his head as he shook it roughly."I just, um-"

"I have to go," Ginny interrupted, looking down the aisle, a small smile forming on her lips. "Catch you later, Harry."

Throughout the whole train ride, Harry rode alone, slowing falling more and more into depression with each bump of the tracks. He drifted out like a light sometime during the third hour, only to be shook awake by the trolley witch.

Her gray hair fell from her messy bun as she gazed at him with a hint of sympathy. She kindly offered a hand up as she stated. "You best get going, boy. The trains already empty."

He nodded and smiled thankfully at her, exiting the train and becoming more distressed as he saw no carriages. An unknown kind of anger bubbled deep inside him as he realised that they had not even tried to wake him. He could tolerate being overlooked, but forgotten? That's an entirely different story.

Harry tore across the land, nearly passing out before he saw the entrance. He frantically entered Hogwarts, slowing himself down as he stood in front of the Great Hall. Softly as possible, he opened the doors, wincing as all eyes whirled to him.

McGonagall scrutinized him carefully before jerking her head to the Gryffindor table with a slight glare. He scurried over to the long table, sitting next to a newly sorted first year.

"As I was saying . . ."

_

It'd been two weeks since his arrival at Hogwarts and he was already more frustrated and more irritated than he should be. Things had mostly gone back to the way they were before, yet at the same time they hadn't at all. When in classes, Ron only opened his mouth to talk about Quidditch or Hermione.

"Do you think 'Mione would like those chocolate roses at-"

"Enough!" Harry frustratedly shouted, shooting up from his seat in the Gryffindor common room. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to get out of this place. "I've had enough!" he announced as he sped up to his room.

McGonagall had gifted each 8th year with their own personal room, however the walls were thin and it wasn't that large. Only big enough to accompany a twin bed, nightstand, and closet. She saw no need to add a bathroom or thicker walls.

It was the nights when he heard Hermione moaning Ron's name, whispering that they had to be quiet because 'Harry might hear us'. It was those nights that made him want to hex everyone in sight.

Had they forgotten what silencing charms were? Did they even remember what magic was once they entered the room?

He'd confronted them about it during the first week, and they had the audacity to play innocent with him. Ron even had a bashful look on his face that made Harry believe they would begin to use silencing charms the next time they wanted to play 'grown up'.

They didn't.

In fact, they got louder.

Harry fell onto his bed, bouncing back up with a puff of air. He did have other friends, but he still couldn't help but feel so alone as if he were facing Voldemort again. He hadn't received the comfort that

Harry recalled seeing Malfoy on the grounds gazing at the Black Lake. The thought made him feel better knowing that he was not completely alone like Malfoy. Then he had been filled with guilt at the thought and sympathy for the Slytherin.

He lended the Malfoy family a hand, even managing to get Lucius out of receiving a Dementor's Kiss. He was only sent to Azkaban for two years, receiving a stiff 'thank you' from the man and a small smile from Malfoy.

He could still feel the peculiar tingling feeling that the smile gave him.

 **A/N: We're getting to a point where Draco will lecture the depressing bitchiness out of Harry and kiss it better later. Trust me on this one, my dudes.**


	3. Chapter Three

Harry walked out of the painting, exhaustion fogging up his brain due to another night of sleeplessness. They were still in Gryffindor tower, only their dormitories allowed boys into the rooms.

Harry had slipped into bed that night, thankful to hear Ron already sleep, his ghastly snoring a relief. But just when he's begun slipping off into the dark dreamworld, the wall to his left begins emitting loud and lengthy moans.

It disgusted and shocked him greatly when remembered that Neville Longbottom roomed next door. Harry finally slumbered when Neville and whomever deemed him 'Nevvie!' in their cries of passion did.

He had then realized that Ginny told him that they were a couple before he'd drifted off. It had been a long and sad night for him.

When he dropped into his seat like a dead weight, every Gryffindor eye seemed to turn his way. Ron stared him with concern. "You look dead, mate."

"I feel dead," he snapped back, pushing around the eggs that he'd scooped onto his plate.h

"Do you feel all right, Harry?" Neville, the bastard, questioned him.

Harry slowly twisted his head up to face the boy, a blank expression tattooed across his face. He spoke emotionlessly, "I certainly do not feel fine, Nevvie."

Neville flushed bright red with embarrassment and he saw Ginny shift uncomfortably out of the corner of his eyes. Harry inhaled loudly, staring them all in the eye.

"I've lost my appetite."

He felt curious after DADA with Ron, and he was itching to know what was in the velvet black box. He caved into his curiosity after five minutes of just lighting caressing it.

His tan hands unhurriedly lifted the soft lid up, throwing it onto the the side of his knitted blanket. He couldsay he wasn't disappointed, but that would be a lie.

A silky jet black quill lay inside the cushioned box.

Harry decided that the quill was an average quill, and using it to write Divination notes on Wednesday was acceptable. This was decided after than hour of inspecting the black quill and casting many, many spells on the feather.

Firenze would not be teaching permanently, only temporarily for the time being since he was welcomed back into his tribe. McGonagal hired some French women by the name of Evelyn Béranger, to take his spot.

She had not been able to attend the welcoming feast, because of a technical error. However, McGonagal still announced her employment like he pleasant women she was.

It was a Wednesday, and his first class of the day was History of Magic which started in about two hours after breakfast. Harry had not been to breakfast yet, because he is waiting for Ron to find his right sock.

"Found it, mate! It was tangled in my ties," Ron informed him as he hopped on one foot trying to slip his trainers on. "'Mione says she's waiting for us at the doors."

Harry nodded and they begin speed walking to the Great Hall, Ron occasionally cracking jokes and Harry softly chuckling. When they'd finally climbed the last stair and turned the last corner, they found a scowling Hermione standing alone by the doors.

"Where have you two been? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!" Hermione shrilled, leading them inside the Hall and towards the Gryffindor table.

"Ask your boyfriend," Harry replies monotonously, as he sat down. He gradually begin filling his plate, thanking Ginny as she poured pumpkin juice into his goblet.

"I've got Arithmancy first thing after breakfast," Hermione explained as she practically launched at her meal. "We'll meet at the Library during one of your breaks."

"All right," Harry agreed, shoveling porridge into his waiting mouth. Just as he started to scoop another spoonful, the flapping wings of birds sounded above him.

He scooted his plate to the side just as his new owl slammed the Daily Prophet onto it's previous position. This earned him an angry screech and a scratch on the hand from the bird before it flew back up.

His new bird was a Red Owl and he'd named after a muggle kids show character called Elmo. The bird appeared to have taken a great disliking to him, ever since Hermione and Ron got together officially. She hurt him every chance she got and would always drop his morning paper into his food.

"Page 2," Hermione demanded, spinning around her morning paper to show them the picture. On the paper was a women laying on her stomach with black gunk dripping out of any available hole in her body. Even with her body mutilated; her eyes gouged out and gooey, Harry felt as if he knew her. "Poor lady."

Accidental, Murder, Or Abnormal?

By R. Almeidus

One day ago, Elani Adney was found dangling against an empty shop that was once accused of being an organ trafficking store for dark wizards. Ms. Adney was last seen by her daughter and husband in America studying zoology with a co-worker.

Unspeakables have studied and searched the scene before announcing that she had no magic intact with her body. Supposedly, the dark gunk leaking from her body is the only remainder of her magic that had not been detached from her body.

Aurors say this could have been the work of an Obscurus, if only she had the signature look of an Obscurial victim. Ms. Adney's internal organs were decayed, whilst the outer organs remained fresh and hadn't begun the process of decomposing.

Unspeakables say no magical signature was left at the scene, and there appeared to be zero signs of any spells cast on the body. Her swollen neck shows indications of choking, so many of the Aurors believe she died choking on her own blood. This is because of the red residue that was seen dried on her lips and on the inside of her mouth.

While this may be the cause, her decomposition was more rapid than the average corpse - only including her insides. Her skin remains pale and she hasn't begun to give off a putrid odor that many have at that stage of decomposition.

Unspeakables put confidence in the idea that her death wasn't just by lack of oxygen, whereas the Head Auror and his men(and women) tell the public the opposite statement.

The Unspeakables put truth in the idea that this may be a type of beast that feeds off of magic. If this is true, then why are Aurors denying possible evidence and refusing to take action? Is there a feral beast roaming the cold streets of London? What is the Ministry not telling us?

Whether Ms. Elani Adney's death be accidental, murder, or abnormal, I recommend checking your wards.

"I know her," Harry murmured, bringing his goblet up to his lips to take a long sip. It hurt to know the kind women he'd known had died so horribly. While this was true, he wanted to know more about her peculiar death.

"How do you know her?" Ginny questioned, picking up a grape to plop it into her mouth. Harry ignored the way Neville watched the movement with lusty eyes. Correction; he tried to.

"She owned an antique store in Knockturn," Harry replied, missing the startled look that passed the small groups faces as his eyes remained scanning the newspaper. "Even offered me strawberry strudels."

"You were in," Ron paused, looking around quickly before he continued in a harsh whisper. "Knockturn Alley?"

Harry nodded as if it wasn't an odd thing to do, borderline sketchy, and bit into his toast. Ginny sympathetically shook her head, right before Hermione blew up for the second time today.

"Why would you wander off into a place like that, Harry? There are people out there who would very much like to cause harm to you, whether it be for revenge or something else. You could have been hurt," Hermione scolded, her eyes confused and her lips tight.

"I was left behind by my friends," Harry bluntly said, uncaring for the hurtful expressions that flashed across both of his best friend's faces.

"We would never do that, Harry," Hermione told him, her expression morphing into a much sadder one with the next three words that exited his mouth.

"You already have."


End file.
